


not the same, and yet

by yakyuu_yarou



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24589900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakyuu_yarou/pseuds/yakyuu_yarou
Summary: Prompt: "You saved my life."He did. They did, in different ways.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	not the same, and yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vogelwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogelwrites/gifts).



> Sometimes, your friend shares a prompt list, and sometimes, that prompt list leads to you just having to hurt yourself a little bit.  
> So you do that.  
> Thank you to the riders, and thank you all for reading <3

“You saved my life.”

It came out too-quick, quiet, disbelieving — as if the reality of it hadn’t entirely set in quite yet.

It had been _months_ , and yet.

And yet.

It made Zolf’s heart ache, not in the cold, calcifying way he knew so well but in a flash of not-yet-familiar warmth that left the corners of his eyes stinging with an emotion that _wasn’t_ regret or remorse (they were the icy things that had no place here). This warmth, in contrast, was full of the urge to — protect, treasure, hold.

He knew Oscar wasn’t talking about their last battle with Mr Ceiling’s horrifying brainchild in London, but his thoughts caught on that moment anyway. Though the memory was no longer fresh — it _had_ been months —, the sharp, frozen terror he’d felt when the lightning bolt had pierced Oscar, clean through his chest and out through his back … still was.

As was the rise of anger and determination like bile at the back of his throat, and the way he’d thrown all of his remaining healing magic into a single desperate spell ( _pleasedon’tdiepleasedon’t **f**_ ** _ucking_** _die_ ) while Hamid and Cel had reduced the thing that had ended the world to rubble.

It had worked.

It had been months, and yet.

Maybe Zolf did understand Oscar, just a bit, even though Oscar meant something else when he said it. Zolf knew precisely what that was.

So he muttered a quiet “Yeah, ‘n’ so did you — mine, I mean. So what?”

He stood from the kitchen stool he’d been perching on and crossed the room (clanking softly in a way he was never going to get used to) to where Oscar sat hunched over his desk. He considered commenting on his terrible posture — to rile him up, drag him out of this morose kind of mood —, but in the end, he wrapped his arms around Oscar’s chest from behind, rested his chin on his (comfortably soft, these days) shoulder, and held _on_.

“We save each other every day.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [not the same, and yet {podfic}](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24845857) by [CrauxSpeaks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrauxSpeaks/pseuds/CrauxSpeaks)




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